


Unintended

by orphan_account



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:29:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 13,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had to be Quill.  Rocket could have listed many other more likely options, but the d'ast Terran was too adorable to resist.  Ah, well...there was really no fighting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> At first I wasn't sure about Pocket. Then I read fanfiction. Now I ship Pocket. I ship it hard... I don't feel like writing a full, complex storyline, so I decided to make some one-shots instead. Drop a Kudos if you like?

Being a genetically-modified raccoon was something that Rocket wasn't sure how to cope with. Sure, he could fabricate intricate and complicated bombs out of a few pieces of silverware, a lighter, and a doorknob, but his creation was not something he could control...not something he understood. Twenty years had passed since his birth, but he remained lost in his own confusion, not able to comprehend what drives a person to mutilate another creature. Who could treat someone like a lab experiment. Subject 89P13... Not a name. A number. He had no true identity, no clue who his parents were, and no clue what to do with himself other than to survive.

Shoot. Bag. Deliver. Shoot. Bag. Deliver. Shoot. Bag. Deliver. Shootbagdeliver. Shootbagdelivershootbagdelivershootbagdeliver. Over and over and over and over again. Rocket masked his pain by bringing an end to others. Groot seemed to help bring some sense into his life, for he understood now that not everybody was corrupted; there was still innocence in the galaxy, and his tree-like friend was walking proof of that. 

Still, hearing "I am Groot" over and over didn't feel as real as talking with a fluent-speaking being, and the only people he spoke to were either paying him or cursing him. No one ever directly called him what he was...a monster...but probably due to his enormous gun. He had Groot, and yet he was alone. Until Peter. 

The last thing Rocket ever imagined doing was falling in love. Who could love him, right? Wrong, according to Star-Lord himself. After defeating the evil tyrant Ronan, Rocket and Peter grew close, and he wanted to throw himself out of the airlock when he realized he had flarking fallen in love with the d'ast idiot. The womanizing, cocky, egomaniacal humie was more than Rocket ever wanted, and it was like a blessing from above when Quill returned his feelings. Those nights of repetitive conversations with Groot were replaced with the warmth and security of Peter's arms. Those times of feeling alone were gone, for Peter was always...always there to comfort him in ways his floral colossus partner could never have done. Peter made Rocket feel...normal.

Being in a relationship never stopped the cybernetic creature from making snide remarks, blunt insults, or even cruel taunts at the humie, but Quill accepted his personality, and thought it sometimes infuriated him, Rocket was secretly glad that Peter was immune to his harsh criticism. “Whatever you say,” Peter would laugh. He was answered with a growl, but even the rest of the team knew that Rocket's growl was the equivalent of a person saying, “I love you.”


	2. Reserved for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rocket was nervous (despite his composure) to share a bed with Peter Quill, but Peter thinks he can change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where to begin the stories, but I guess some cuddling would be good to start with before I move on to deeper things. Thanks for the kind reviews on my intro chapter by the way!

Rocket had everything he could have wanted at the moment. That is, not counting a normal life, bigger guns, or death to Thanos. Other than those few things, he was quite content with how his life was going, especially since he and Pete were together. He wasn't really sure how relationships worked, but they had apparently gotten "together" the night before, and now they were "dating". Drax had inquired what was relevant about calendar markings in relation to their love life, only to be met with a round of sighs and shaking heads. Gamora had seen it for a long time coming. Groot...well...he was Groot.

One thing still troubled Rocket, and it wasn't his cybernetic implants that had recently been repaired, nor was it the fact that Quill had demanded he stopped removing pieces of the Milano to make bombs of mass destruction. Rather than talking to Peter himself, Rocket did the one thing he thought he would never have to do: consult Groot for advice. Rocket didn't think Groot was incompetent, of course, but the idiot was too sentimental and affectionate. If he wanted to kill someone, Groot would try to stop him. If he wanted to steal something, Groot would stop him. If it was immoral, Groot was against it. How could he take relationship advice from a tree that stood for galactic peace? His problem may not have a peaceful solution. He wasn't sure, to be truthful.

And so, Rocket found himself sitting beside Groot in their cabin, Groot being tall enough to walk around on his own now. His wooden friend looked curiously at his animalistic partner. “I am Groot?” He asked softly.

“Well, not exactly,” answered Rocket, wringing his hands together. “Nothing's really wrong...it's just...” He sighed, his whiskers trembling. “I'm kind of stuck.”

“I am Groot?”

Thank God he got metaphors. Rocket focused his dark eyes on the pot his friend has recently grown out of and picked at the fabric of his pants. “It's Quill.”

Groot leaned back with an almost smug look on his face, as if to say "I knew it". “I am Groot?”

“He...wants me to stay in his cabin from now on.” It was hard saying that. Rocket had never spent a single night without Groot by his side, and this change would mean leaving that part of his life behind. He loved Quill. He'll, they had sex the previous night, but...he didn't stay. Groot needed him, and he was determined to stay with him. 

Groot placed a wooden hand on Rocket's shoulder, causing him to stiffen suddenly and then relax. “I am Groot,” he said solemnly.

Rocket looked up, confusion in his eyes. “Move on? What...are you saying that I should...stay with Peter?” Funny. He had never referred to Quill as "Peter" to other people. Groot was giving advice Rocket had not even thought of. He was so busy trying to escape the situation that he'd not yet toyed with the idea of complying with Peter's wishes. Maybe the tree had a point.

“I...am Groot.”

“I'll...miss you, too, buddy.”

“I am Groot?”

“Yeah...” Rocket gave a small smile, and he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “I guess I am.”

He and Groot sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying the moment, until Groot asked, “I am Groot?”

Rocket looked up and rolled his eyes. “Why the hell would I need to write to you? We live in a freaking tin can for a ship!”

***

“So...?” Peter raised his eyebrows, adding a little wiggle that Rocket secretly wanted to laugh at. The humie made a gesture to accent his one-worded question, and the corners of Rocket's lips tugged up slightly. Always talking with his hands, that idiot was. Words never seemed to be enough. 

“I'll stay.” His voice sounded uncharacteristically tentative, and he cleared his throat immediately. “I mean, what the hell? It's not like I take up much space anyway.” He crossed his arms indignantly. 

“Alright!” Peter grinned and stretched back out on his bed, his Walkman playing music faintly in the background, melodic voices drifting out of his orange headphones. “I was starting to think you would say no.”

Rocket stepped further into the room and leapt onto the bed to rest awkwardly against the wall behind it. “Eh. The tree talked me into it.”

“Remind me to thank him.” Peter turned his head and smiled at him, flashing bright white teeth, and odd trait for a former Ravager. Most didn't care about hygiene and ended up with yellow, black, or even no teeth. Peter at least had dignity, and it showed by the number of people he'd bedded. Suddenly, he yawned loudly and stretched. “I think I'm ready to turn in,” he said sleepily. “It's been a long day.”

“All you did was eat and clean a few guns.”

“Which was boring. Boring makes me sleepy.” He smiled and lightly trailed a finger down Rocket's shirtless side. “You make me feel awake.”

Rocket gulped quietly and remembered not to bite Quill for touching him (this time). Sometimes he had to take a moment to realize that it made him feel good when Peter touched him. He saw him not as a pet, but as an equal. He made him feel special. Guh. All this emotion was going to his head!

“Well, too bad, Quill, 'cause I'm turnin' in, too, and you ain't gettin' none 'till at least tomorrow.”

“It's always tomorrow somewhere.” The captain gave a suggestive wink, but Rocket just rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Star-Dork.” He removed his pants as Peter complained about the mispronunciation of his "outlaw name". He shut up when Rocket pressed his lips against his, closing his eyes to savor the moment. This was one of the few things Rocket would do unsarcastically, and Peter took advantage of that, lightly rubbing the thick mass of fur on the right side of Rocket's face.

It was Peter who broke away to stare meaningfully at Rocket before getting comfortably situated underneath the covers and holding out his arms expectantly. Rocket nearly said something offensive about the way he was being treated like some cheap stuffed animal, but he bit his tongue (he was determined to become more cooperative) and awkwardly crawled into Peter's embrace, feeling his warm skin press into his fur. His muzzle aligned with Quill's neck, and he silently inhaled his scent, being somewhat better than he had imagined: cinnamon and...metal? Strangely enough, it worked, and soon Rocket was allowing himself to be petted and cuddled by the muscular man he shared a bed with while he was intoxicated by the man's pheromones. Just before drifting off, Peter whispered a quiet “I love you”, and Rocket merely growled, but this time, it sounded strangely like a purr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would really help me out if you guys would give me some scenarios to write about. I'll consider each one and will be grateful for them all.


	3. I'm Not Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Rocket is injured on a mission, he struggles to keep his pride, but how proud can he be if someone has to carry him around?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have no idea what I'm doing, so like I said before, if you have any story ideas please tell me!

“Dammit, Quill! That flarking hurts!” Rocket snapped out and attempted to lean forward to see what the Terran was doing to his legs. Gamora was faster and quickly held him down while Peter was doing whatever the hell he was doing. Of all the places for an injury to occur, it had to be his legs. 

It was supposed to be a rather simple mission: bypass Kree security, obtain the stolen Nova weapon, and return to the Nova Headquarters. Easy. BUT, just like all the other easy missions, something bad had to happen, and this time, it was in the form of a giant-ass Kree blowing up the exit with some specially-made explosives that Rocket would have liked to take; however, it was just his luck that debris had to hit him.

At first he had been in shock of what had went down. The ringing in his ears seemed to get higher and higher, and dust clogged his vision. He could barely make out other yells and sounds, and it took him forever to realize Peter was yelling his name frantically. Although unconsciousness seemed like a more fun option, those idiots would get killed trying to save him, so he struggled to break free of his trance and crawl upwards. As soon as one foot touched the ground, he yelped in pain, the sharp sound scaring even himself. It felt like something was broken. Falling to the ground, he made out Peter running to him through the fog of dust, a gash under his eye and his hair tussled wildly.

“Rocket!?!” He slid down and stretched out his hands, only to be knocked away. 

“I'm fine! I'm just...achey.”

Rocket stood slowly but crumpled back down, a groan ripping its way through his mouth. Something was definitely broken, and he could feel blood.

“Bullshit!” Quill spat, furrowing his eyebrows and glancing around to look for the source of clamor that was resonating through the building. “Forget this, I'm carrying you out whether you like it or not.” He gently picked Rocket up from his spot on the dirty floor, ignoring the raccoon's indignant protests. “Gamora!” He yelled.

“Peter!” A green figure burst from a half-destroyed doorway. “We took down the guards, and Drax has the weapon. W-” Her eyes fell to Rocket (who was squirming uncomfortably in his lover's arms). “What happened?” She demanded.

Rocket gritted his teeth. “Damn Kree an his grenades. I'll be fine; I just need the med kit.”

“I'm taking him to the ship. Are you guys behind us?” Quill's chest vibrated as he spoke.

“I'll retrieve them. Hurry.” She gave a curt nod and disappeared back where she came from. Quill immediately darted through an opening in the wall and took off through the landscape towards the Milano, making sure to support Rocket at and angle that would cause no harm to his legs. The suns beat down on the pair, but Quill kept up the pace, though sweat dripped down his brow. Rocket bit down on his cheek as a throb went through his broken leg, and he tasted copper.

They finally reached the Milano, and Quill got inside in record timing. He was breathing heavily through his mouth while he sat Rocket down softly on the meeting table. He darted across the small room and pulled up the body scanner for Rocket. And damn he had some injuries.

This is why Rocket was laying in the bed with his leg in a cast and the other bandaged heavily. This is also why Peter continued to come back to the cabin every five minutes to check on him. How was he gonna get any rest with the moron interrupting his sleeping patterns? Rocket amused himself by taking apart and putting back together one of his many guns. It wasn't as if he would be using any weapons any time soon.

The door hissed open, and Quill stuck his head in. “You okay?” He asked.

Rocket should have been touched. He should have felt lucky to have such a caring boyfriend. He knew this, but it didn't stop him from silently raising the middle finger of his right hand to silently flip him off. He'd picked up the foreign gesture from Quill on countless occasions, never asking what it meant. It seemed to be offensive, so he automatically took a liking to it.

“Aw, come on, Rocky. What's wrong?” Peter walked into the room, using his pet name for Rocket, which was only allowed because he told Rocket that it was the name of a powerful warrior in a Terran legend. He sat on the side of the bed and observed the casual task his boyfriend was doing.

Rocket rolled his eyes. “What do you think, Star-Dork? I'm stuck in a bed for weeks now. I wanna shoot somethin'!” He brandised the gun dramatically, and Quill gave a little jump before gently taking it only to move it a safe distance away from the lamenting raccoon.

“I'm sorry.” He stretched out a hand and lightly rubbed Rocket's ears. “You really wanna get around, don't you?” 

“Yeah...” Rocket sighed.

There was a second of silence before Peter looked up with a question in his eyes. Rocket knew this look all too well, ad it had been Peter's mistake many a time. Nevertheless, the humie opened his mouth. “I could carry you.”

“WHAT?!?!” Rocket felt outraged and immediately flung back Quill's hand. “I am NOT A PET!” If his legs weren't hurt, he would lunge at Peter's neck. He couldn't even be angry right with his predicament.

“Whoa, whoa! Calm down! I know that! I meant you could ride on my shoulder like you do to Groot!”

Peter widened his green eyes innocently and held both hands up in the air, looking surprised by the sudden explosion. Rocket took this with some satisfaction, and then thought about the idea. After years of riding on Groot, he should have no problem with a softie like Quill. And he definitely couldn't spend another minute in the bed. He glanced up at Peter (his anger was gone as soon as it had come) and sighed. “I guess I don't really have a choice.”

“You could stay in the bed...?”

“Help me up.”

It took a few different techniques, but he eventually was perched on Peter's shoulder, his right leg sticking out due to the cast. Peter seemed to be enjoying this, and he wanted to punch the hell out of him, but his balance was already a little wobbly. He dug his claws into Peter's shirt and was pleased that Quill didn't complain about the tips poking into his skin. 

“I feel like an idiot.”

“You should feel proud.” Quill tilted his head up to stare at Rocket, the corners of his mouth curving up in a proud smile. “Most people would lay around in bed feeling sorry for themselves. You're doing the best you can to get around.”

“Hmph.” Rocket sniffed, though he was secretly pleased. He looked down to see Quill rolling his eyes, and he couldn't resist rubbing the big lug's stubble with a tiny hand, silently showing his appreciation. It was Quill's turn to let out a "Hmph", and they were off to practice Rocket's new form of transportation.


	4. In Which Peter Becomes Annoying...More Annoying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course Peter is the most annoying person ever, but why is it that he has become even more annoying since becoming Rocket's boyfriend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind comments so far! It would really help me if you guys could pitch some ideas. It's hard to do something no one else has done, you know?

“Hey, hey! What's the matter with your head?”

Rocket squinted in his sleep, a terrible sound interrupting the pleasantness of ammunition firing and bombs exploding. He absentmindedly scratched at his ear and curled up closer to the warm pillow beside him.

The sound was reduced to a low humming sound, and he sighed happily as the legs of his enemy were blown off. Before he could celebrate, the sound erupted with a “Come and get your love!”, causing him to let out a groan. What the hell was that awful sound?! It kept persisting until his dream faded away, and he opened a sleep-encrusted eye, adjusting to dim light.

He was in bed with Peter. AKA, the source of the atrocious sound. His Walkman was on the nightstand, and he was singing the lyrics into Rocket's ear while playing with his soft fur. “Come and get your love!” He crooned.

Rocket stiffened. “What the fuck are you doing, Quill?”

He felt a throaty chuckle shake the broad chest he was leaning against, and warm breath tickled his ear as Quill replied, “It's called a serenade. I'm singing to you.” He took a breath and launched back into the song, not ashamed if he was off-key at all.

“Will you kindly SHUT THE HELL UP?!” Rocket snapped and tugged at his furry ears, wishing they weren't so sensitive.

“Nope!” Replied Peter happily, popping his lips on the "p". He ignored Rocket's answering string of curse words and continued to wail into the poor raccoon's ears.

“That's it!” Rocket sat bolt upright and began sliding off the bed. Suddenly, a strong arm came out of nowhere to hook around his middle and pull him back into a forced cuddling session. “There's nothing you can do to stop me!” Peter hugged Rocket close and continued to sing the words. God, it was TERRIBLE!!!

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME YOU ASSHOLE!!!” Rocket squirmed and pushed in desperation at Quill's muscular chest, trying to free himself. The thought crossed his mind to rake his claws across the Terran's soft skin, and he even stared at one hand for a moment. He couldn't do it. Something had changed in him since being with Quill, and he was unable to purposely harm the idiot. Damn humie had made him soft! Realizing that there was nothing he could do to escape the embrace, he sighed and flopped down onto Peter.

He was rewarded with a chuckle and a kiss on the head. “Told you there wasn't anything you could do to stop me, Rocky.” He trailed his calloused fingers through his fur, and Rocket shuddered in delight when he hit that sensitive spot on his neck. He could be annoying as crap, but damn...he knew all the right buttons to press.

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do.” 

“I'm gonna hide a bomb in your pocket.”

“I know you will.”

Rocket pouted against Peter's warm skin, listening to his heart beat strongly in his chest. He'd grown so accustomed to hearing that sound that it was hard to sleep without it (thought that was contradicted by Quill's snoring). As much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed his position in Peter's arms. It wasn't often he was made to feel secure, but the former Ravager knew just how to fix that.

“Ya want another song?” Peter asked.

Aaaaaand he was back to being annoying. Rocket looked up at him and snarled.

“Oooor not.” Peter released him, and Rocket smugly slipped off the bed and yanked on some pants. Peter watched as he sifted through his drawer to find clothes and a towel.

“Taking a shower?”

“What do you think, genius?”

“Want some company?”

“Bite me.”

Quill grumbled something about Rocket being in a "pissier mood than usual" and put his foam headphones on to lip sync to Blue Swede, though his eyes raked affectionately over his boyfriend's frame. He would break down that wall. Soon enough. Soon enough...

***

“Ya know, I was actually considering just making you a tape of me singing.” Peter winked.

“Do you want me to commit suicide?” Rocket stared at Peter as if he had just spat on his grandma, though...he wasn't sure if he even had a grandma.

Peter clutched his heart playfully. “Ouch! I thought you liked my singing!” He poked his bottom lip out, but the twinkle in his eyes gave away any sense of being serious. Always the drama queen.

“Have you always got to be a drama queen?” Unfortunately, it was at that particular moment that their metaphor-oblivious teammate chose to walk by. Drax turned in confusion. “Metaphor?” 

Rocket sighed. “Yes, Drax. That was a metaphor.”

The blue warrior tilted his chin up in pride and beamed. “I am becoming skilled at this art of detection.” 

Peter looked up expectantly. “You could even say it was as easy....” he gestured for Drax to continue, and the massive alien knotted his brow in concentration before opening his mouth. “As easy as...pie?” He looked at Peter for approval, and once he received it, he grinned (more of a menacing baring of teeth). “I knew it!”

Rocket buried his face in his hands and groaned quietly. Gamora was right. They truly were surrounded by the biggest idiots in the galaxy. You had the hyperactive Terran, the soft-hearted tree, and the imbecile muscle. It was like a freak show in space.

When Drax finally moved on in contentment, Peter went back to explaining why he should be allowed to make Rocket a mix tape.

“I'm a great singer! And I know you think it's sexy when I sing to you!”

Actually, it was the hip gyrations that Rocket found "sexy". The humie had a hot body, and there was no shame in admitting that. 

“Quill, why are you so annoying?”

“You're a really negative person. Have you ever considered loosening up?”

“That's what alcohol is for.”

“Do I really have to get you drunk for you to be nice to me?”

Rocket kicked the ground to avoid looking at Peter's gaze. “I am nice,” he mumbled.

“You threatened to blow me up this morning!”

“Eh, I was just teasin' ya, Pete!” Rocket struggled to obtain a joking smile, but it probably looked like Drax's. Being nice was not something that came naturally to him. Sure, he could be respectful and collected, but he wasn't the kind of guy to go around dishin' out compliments. That's was Groot was for, to balance out his split personality. If he couldn't be nice, at least the sensitive tree could.

Peter shook his head. “You are the most bipolar guy ever.” His lips tugged up in a smirk that make Rocket both angry and melty at the same time. That was the problem with Quill. He was too sexy to stay completely mad at, but his sexiness made him seem cocky, which is why Rocket wanted to get mad in the first place!

“So how's about another serenade?” Peter prodded.

And he wondered why all the liquor rations were depleted.


	5. Love's a Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter decided that he was sick of fighting the bad guys day-in and day-out, so maybe it would be a good time for a vacation. For Rocket, he may just have some ideas in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the ideas guys! I thought I'd start with the vacation one first and lead into the gaming one. I figured it was time for some sexual interactions, and what better way to do it than on vacation, right?

(Peter's POV)

Peter trudged to his and Rocket's bed and tumbled into it, not caring at all how he landed, just so long as he could relax. It had been a long week of tracking a Fluirivian gang that had reportedly stolen the plans for Nova's new whatchamacallit, and of course the Guardians were first on the list to retrieve it. They had to track them three-quarters of the way across the galaxy before they finally cornered them around some decrepit bar on Yælpe. Luckily, nobody on the Guardian side was injured, but the final fight had taken a great deal out of them. Not to mention they still had to meet up with Nova Officers to trade out the plans. At least they got paid 700,000 units.

Peter sighed into his pillow and stretched his aching limbs into a beter position. It had taken him everything not to fall asleep in the shower, and it was only Rocket's banging at the door that had prevented him from nearly falling over the edge of the tub. He just prayed that they would have a free day tomorrow... With that, he sunk into a deep sleep, perturbed by nothing at all.

 

(Rocket's POV)

 

Of course the humie had to go and take up all of the bed. What a better way to fall asleep than by passing out horizontally with his arms at odd angles. Rocket grumbled quietly to himself and crawled to the top of the bed. He found a decent spot just out of Quill's reach and curled up to take a well-earned rest. He hadn't been drained nearly as much as Peter did, so he decided to let his sleeping position slide. Maybe they could have the day off the next day...? Rocket sighed contently and slipped off into a dream.

 

(The next day) (Also Peter's POV)

 

Peter opened his eyes slowly and with a huge yawn. What time was it? Had he slept through the whole day? He checked his wrist and breathed a sigh of relief. Only noon. He suddenly became aware of a light pressure on his back. Shifting alittle, he smiled. The feeling of fur rubbing agains the skin over his spine was familiar. Rocket. He supposed he must have climbed up there the night before, regardless of whether he meant to or not. Even though he verbally complained about cuddling, Peter knew his boyfriend loved it.

He shifted slightly and gently eased Rocket off of his back and onto the bed, where he remained in deep sleep. Peter smiled and trailed his fingers lightly through the soft fur. He always looked adorable when he slept. He actually looked adorable everywhere, but at least he wasn't making crude remarks in his sleep.

Peter stood up and grabbed his Walkman before heading up to the flight deck to check their position. He could hear Gamora cleaning her weapons in her room, and Drax was in the shower. Groot was somewhere doing God-knows-what. Slipping his orange foam headphones on, he pressed play on whatever song he had stopped on last, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips as the song continued.

"If you like piña coladas..."

He relaxed in the captain's chair and gazed out at space while the song played, and his mind drifted to think of beaches and palm trees and...well, piña coladas. It sounded great. Much better than constantly running on missions, at least. Wait...

Peter sat up more, and the wheels of his mind began to spin. Beaches, palm trees, exotic drinks... A vacation! They were engulfed in units, and they had never taken a vacation before! Truth be told, he didn't even know if Rocket had ever been to a beach. He could picture it now: a sunset on a sparkling ocean as he smooth-talked his lover into joining him in the bunk for a little one-on-one action. Maybe the vacation would soften Rocket's exterior a little.

He grinned and set his course in the navigational system, knowing just the planet. He could make it a surprise for everyone! And Groot would love basking in the sun! If Groot was in, Rocket was in. It was time to have some fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so short! I was being rushed. I'll be updating tomorrow though. I promise a hot scene coming up!


	6. Love's a Beach (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has decided that maybe Rocket needs a little "persuasion" to enjoy their vacation. That shouldn't be hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...been a while, eh? I'm so ashamed of myself for not updating! Please please please forgive me! I've been super swamped, but here goes nothing.

“What the hell is this?” Rocket peered through the cockpit windshield and down at the crystalline sand they were in the process of landing on. Usually their missions were in dirty, seedy areas on some half-deserted planet Nova didn't have the balls to go to. The tropical paradise wasn't something he had prepared himself for.

Quill looked up momentarily from the controls and flashed him a grin. “It's a vacation!” The ship touched down, sending a spray of sand in all directions, but Rocket wasn't paying attention. He was too busy staring a Peter. A...vacation? As in...leisure time? No shooting things? No blowing things up?

“You can't be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.”

“Since when do WE of all people take a vacation? This isn't some prissy occupation, like a Nova desk job.”

“Oh, come on!” Peter leaned back in the chair. “I thought you might like it. Just imagine...” He waved his hand through the air to emphasize his words. “The wind in your h-fur. The sand in your toes.” He looked at Rocket and wiggled his eyebrows. “Sex on the beach...”

After Rocket recovered from the eyebrow-wiggle, he frowned. He didn't want wind in his fur unless it was from a close-flying bullet. He didn't want sand in his toes unless he was in some desert battling Badoon gang members. But...sex sounded pretty good. On a beach, though? Really? Quill had been living in his mixtapes for far too long. He sighed. “Look, Quill, I appreciate the thought, but...”

Groot chose this moment to enter, and he cocked his head. “I am Groot?”

Rocket nearly groaned. “Yeah, we're on some beach.”

“I am Groot?”

“Because our genius captain here though it would be a great idea to take a vacation.”

“I am Groot!” He began to nod excitedly.

“But-”

“-I am Groot.”

Rocket pinched the bridge of his muzzle with a long moan. “Fine,” he finally muttered. “We'll stay.” Damn tree.

Peter beamed up at the treelike companion. “Thank you, Groot!”

“I am Groot.”

He looked back at Rocket. “You never know. You might like it.” 

***

To be fair, he did attempt to enjoy their vacation. He allowed Quill to take him along a walk down the beach, though the sand felt like it was scraping his skin off. Groot tried to get him to go in the water, but after a few feet in a stupid crap pinched his toe. The closest he had come to having fun was blowing up Quill's sandcastle with a makeshift seashell bomb. It wasn't like it would have lasted long anyways! The tide was coming in.

Gamora enjoyed swimming out and exploring further out in the cape, and Drax spent his time catching poor fish with his bare hands. How was it that two of the most deadly people in the galaxy could enjoy having a beach vacation, but he couldn't! It was amusing, however, to discover that Quill had gotten sunburned on his back. That's what he deserved for trying to seduce Rocket by swimming around without a shirt on. When he emerged from the water, however...glistening wet...mmmmmm. 

So yeah, other than those few things, the day had been a drag. Rocket knew that Quill was just trying to make him happy, but he'd felt happier escaping from prison. From prisons. 

“Rocket?”

His ears perked up, and he finally realized Quill had been calling his name. “Yeah?”

“I asked if you'd want to go out over those dunes with me.” Peter pointed to a spot that was close enough to the ship that it wouldn't be that long a walk. 

“Er, okay.” He stood and wiped sand off his pants to follow Peter up the sand dune.

“It's about to be sunset,” Peter pointed out as they neared the top. 

“Yep.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of them as they continued to trudge through the warm sand. Without battle strategies to discuss, they were uncomfortable holding simple conversations. It was a good thing, he supposed, that this illuminated that fact, so he could practice. 

“How's that, er, sunburn?” He asked on their descent to a flatter part of the beach. 

Peter winced as he was reminded of it. “Hurts like a bitch. Gamora gave me some lotion to put on it. Said it speeds up the healing process or something.”

“You Terrans and your fragile skin.”

“Oh, shut up! I still haven't forgotten that you blew up my sandcastle!”

“It was gonna get washed away anyways.”

Peter pouted, his lower lip jutting out just a little further than his upper one. “Whatever.”

They walked a little more before Peter stopped and stretched out a towel on the ground. He sat down and patted next to him. He must have had agenda to complete. Rocket sat down and looked up as one of the two suns touched the horizon. 

“How'd you do it anyways?”

“Hm?”

“Blow up my sandcastle? How'd you make that bomb?”

Rocket cracked a little smile. “Trade secrets. I don't just give them away.”

Peter lightly scratched him behind his left ear. “I had a feeling it would be something like that.” He shifted a little. “Could you do me a favor?”

“What is it?”

Peter produced a bottle of a greenish-looking gel. “Do you think you could please rub some of this on my sunburn?”

Rocket rolled his eyes. “Really, Quill?”

“Oh, come on! I can't reach it!” Peter pleaded.

Rocket sighed (though he actually was eager to admire that muscular back of his) and took the bottle while Peter laid down on his front. Sure enough, his back was turning a darker shade of red, and it would have been funny if it weren't for the muscles that seemed to be everywhere that prohibited Rocket from doing anything other than drooling.

“Please be careful,” Peter warned.

“I know, I know.”

Rocket squirted a little of the stuff in a hand and gently placed it against Peter's shoulderblade. He heard a soft hiss, and Peter tensed up ever-so-slightly. The big wuss. He began spreading the mixture around and adding more until it covered the sunburn, and then he massaged it in, enjoying the hard muscle that made up his lover. 

Peter seemed to be enjoying it equally as well, and he moaned in contentment. “Holy crap, Rocket. That feels amazing.” He rested his chin on his arm and sighed. “You're great at this.”

Rocket managed a "whatever", but he was soley focused on the task at hand, making sure the gel was rubbed completely in. It seemed to be disappearing, but he kept rubbing until there was nothing left on his back. Even the sunburn was gone! Nevertheless, he kept massaging. Quill's back was too sexy to resist.

“Hey, Rocket?”

“Hm?”

“The gel's gone, isn't it?”

Rocket's hands faltered for a moment. “Er...yeah.”

“So I take it you're enjoying yourself?” There was an air of a cocky attitude in his voice.

“I mean, yeah. I guess.” He averted his eyes from those shoulderblades.

“Luckily, I told them not to expect us back for a while...”

Oh, thank God!!! He thought he'd never ask. Being forced to stare at Quill all day without touching him had driven him nuts! He hoped the team didn't expect them back until the next day, because he felt he could go until that long.

“Are you gonna kiss me or not, Quill?”

Peter rolled over, paying no attention whatsoever to whether or not he felt any pain or not. “I'm ready whenever you are, babe.” He smiled widely, and Rocket took no time in climbing on his strong chest to press his lips against his Star-Lord's.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	7. Love's a Beach (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rocket finally gets to enjoy his "vacation", only it's a little bit hotter out than he thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first time I've ever written something like this, but I'll do my best! It may or may not be graphic, depending on what strikes me.

Bombs. Great, giant, explosive bombs. That's exactly how Rocket would describe what went on in his head when he kissed Peter. As soon as those lips closed on his, adrenaline raced through his veins, and it reminded him of the very feeling he always got while bullets were whizzing past him. That tingling sensation was that of the reverberations of some close-by explosion. Quill had already explained what he meant by "I see fireworks when I kiss you", but Rocket was sure his personal experiences were better. A simple Terran explosive was no match compared to a Flyrian DL-18 Influctuator, packed with such a force it could take out Terra itself. He should probably warn Quill not to step on that box near the dresser...

A tugging sensation snapped him out of his reverie, and his eyes followed Quill's hands while they unzipped his jumpsuit with fumbling fingers. Eager to hurry up and strip, Rocket slipped a hand past Peter's and undid the zipper smoothly. Peter just kept kissing him roughly while slipping the jumpsuit off. It was nice to be free of his clothes, to allow the sun to warm his fur without fear of judgement. 

“One sec...” Peter murmered huskily before kissing him once more and breaking away to pull out a large sheet from his knapsack. He whipped it out and lowered it to the ground. Rocket stepped on it and waited for Peter to hurry up.

“Came prepared, didn't ya'?”

“I'm always prepared,” Peter noted smugly, standing in a way that proudly displayed the tent in his...underwear? When did he even lose his shorts?!

Rocket saw an opportunity. “Really? Were you prepared for this?” He reached and yanked down Quill's boxer-briefs to his ankles to lean forward and sink his mouth on the 8.6 (Peter measured...the self conscious idiot) inch and rock hard dick.

Quill (he noticed smugly) did NOT come prepared for that, and he jolted in surprise. That shock was soon replaced by a needy moan that was produced when Rocket lapped at the tip of his large member. The Terran's hands rested on Rocket's furry head, and he groaned again.

“Holy crap, Rocket!”

The furry Guardian just continued to suck, running his hands down Quill's muscular thighs and then even further back to grope him. He took care to keep his needle-sharp teeth from grazing the tender skin, but it didn't stop him from dragging a sharp claw down the smooth skin of Peter's ripped abdomen. He could now feel the pulsing of Peter's cock, and it was beginning to leak precum. He didn't want to end it. Not just yet.

Taking his mouth off, he growled at Peter, “Get on the ground.”

No questions were asked, and Peter laid out flat on the ground, penis up of course. Usually, he was the one to dictate what to do and when to do it, but Rocket was too hyped up on his libido to transition authority. He climbed up onto Peter's pecs and sat to kiss him again.

Peter moaned into Rocket's mouth, and his hot breath filled it. Rocket was pleased to have gotten all of those moans out of his lover. He was in charge. He had the power to make Quill cum. Seeking further moans, he trailed his soft tail up the length of Peter's cock and lighty pinched his hardened nipples at the same time. The effects were instantaneous, as Peter arched his back and groaned loudly. “Fuuuuck! Babe!”

“Shut the hell up,” Rocket muttered. “I'm doing the talking here.” He gave him another nipple-twist and was delighted to have his ears greeted with another moan. 

“You like that, don't you?” He rubbed across his boyfriend's large pecs, squeezing the tough muscles. 

“R-Rocket. I'm close. S-slow.” Peter cringed, and Rocket suddenly realized he'd been rubbing his tail up and down Peter's dick at a nice speed for a while. It was leaking like a faucet, and his could sense the tightness of his balls. He withdrew his tail and rummaged through the knapsack to pull out a bottle of lube. He climbed off of Peter and squeezed some on his fingers, laying down to prep himself.

Peter watched in an almost hungry way, but he refrained from touching himself until the need to release had passed. Rocket had himself three-fingers in by now and was dying to have Quill filling him. He grinned at Peter. “You ready, Star-Lord? Or am I gonna have to get off myself?”

Peter gave a wicked grin. “Not a chance.” And he sprung over Rocket in push-up position. God, was he sexy or what? 

“Ready?” He asked, positioning the head of his cock at Rocket's well-lubed entrance. 

“Hurry up before I change my mind!” Rocket trailed a finger down Peter's chest.

Suddenly, Peter thrust hard, and Rocket was completely plugged by Peter's meat. It was stretching him to the limit, but he knew he could take it. The size difference barely even bothered them anymore. It did, however, cause him to stiffen and suck in a breath. The discomfort was short-lived, for Peter began moving in and out at a quick pace. Rocket moaned just as loud as Peter had, but of course he would deny it.

“How do you like that, baby?” Peter's voice was low and sexual, a predatoral purr in Rocket's left ear.

“You're so big, Peter!”

“Call me Star-Lord.”

In any other circumstance, Rocket would have rolled his eyes and made a snide remark, but he was in a trance of desire that needed to be completed. And so he relented, gazing into Peter's green eyes. “Fuck me harder, Star-Lord!”

Peter closed his eyes and concentrated on not climaxing, and Rocket lifted his hand to rub Peter's rough stubble, enjoying the prickly hairs against his skin. With the other, he pumped hisself. Even he was close.

Peter suddenly hit his prostate, and Rocket convulsed in bliss. “GAH!” He exclaimed. The most amazing feeling had just spread through his body. 

“Do that again, Star-Lord!” He moaned.

Peter thrust a few more times and finally hit the same spot, only this time, it was enough to send Rocket over the edge and shoot his load into the air to coat Peter's broad chest. As he did so, he tightened tremendously, trapping Peter inside of him.

“Holy shit! I'm-I'm...!” Peter groaned loudly and blew his load inside of Rocket at least seven times before calming down. It was a moment before they could both extract themselves, and when they did they just laid down next to one another and panted. That was definitely one of the best they'd ever had.

“Hey..Pete?” Rocket asked quietly.

“Yeah?” Peter's voice sounded scratchy and worn out.

“This wasn't such a bad idea after all.”

Peter smiled down at Rocket and scooped him up into his arms to cuddle. He didn't say anything. They just stayed to watch the last sunset of the day. He had told the truth. It wasn't such a bad vacation after all.


	8. Game Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was all Peter's fault, and he knew it. The last thing you should eve introduce to a trigger-happy raccoon is video games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to blusnoson for the idea!

“Peter, you must do something,” said Gamora as she and the leader of the Guardians stood quietly in the hallway leading into the main meeting deck. They spoke in hushed tones to avoid attracting the attention of the team member who was presently screaming at a gaming console. 

“WHAT THEY HELL?!?” Rocket was yelling. “THAT ISN'T LEGAL!”

Peter rubbed his temple and nodded with his eyes shut in exasperation. Finally, he let out a sigh and opened his bright green eyes. “I have NO idea how to separate him. If I walk in the room he just demands that I play with him! I haven't even gone through there to get my mixtapes. My MIXTAPES, Gamora.”

The green assassing narrowed her eyes as if studying his body language. After a moment, she relaxed, but her facial expression was that of surprise. “You're telling the truth.” Her gaze shifted to the small form seated at the table. “But still...this must end.”

Peter was glad not to be on the receiving end of that tired expression. When Gamora wanted something done, it got done. Even Rocket was a little bit threatened by her. Sensing a potential brawl coming up, he edged backwards down the hall, but there was suddenly a hand gripping the front of his shirt tightly. He sighed and met Gamora's eyes.

She shook her head. “You are needed here.”

“Do you have a plan?”

Her eyes twinkled with that look of eagerness she always got before a fight. It wasn't something he wanted to see onboard the Milano. Her eyes cut back to Rocket once, and then back to his own. “More than twelve percent.”

***

It was supposed to be easy: Distract Rocket, bring him away from the game, give Gamora time to send it flying out into the icy darkness of space. Easy, right? Not all of it.

“Rocket finds you visually appealing, does he not?” She had asked. “Seduce him. When you both are gone, I'll destroy the machine.”

Theoretically, it sounded pretty stable, except...

“What happens when he find out we got rid of it?”

She smiled wickedly. “Allow me to take care of that.”

Peter just shivered.

***

“Hey, Rocket...” Peter walked nervously up to his boyfriend, scanning the room for weapons. 

“Not now, Quill. I'm almost to level 23-AHA! TAKE THAT YOU IMPERIAL SCUM!!!”

Peter stared worriedly at Rocket. The only thing he'd done all day was take a shower. He didn't even touch his guns once. Knowing that it was up to him to end this once and for all, he put on his famous smirk and knelt down.

“Well, I was kind of hoping you could help me with something.” 

“Quill. I'm. In. The. Middle. Of. Something.” He shook his head. “Duh.”

Peter bit his tongue and looked past Rocket to Gamora, who was slinking in the shadows. Reverting his gaze to Rocket, he cleared his throat.

“The game can be saved. I was wondering if you would help with something in our cabin...if you know what I mean.” He held his breath.

Rocket glanced at him once. Progress!

“Why now?”

“Because you're incredibly hot, and I don know how much longer I can stand without having sex with you.” He wasn't totally lying. Rocket did look pretty awesome, and he did want to have sex.

Rocket paused the game and shrugged. “Alright.”

Peter's jaw dropped. “Wh-really?” That was way easier than expected.

Rocket shrugged and hopped down from the chair, leaving his controller in place of himself. “Have I ever been one to refuse sex?”

Peter laughed nervously. “No, not really...” Gamora was giving him a thumbs up.

“Well let's go before I change my mind. I've still got Imperials to kill.”

Peter thought it was kind of out of character for the gun-loving raccoon to play a game with swords and maces. Nevertheless, he straightened and followed Rocket down the hallway opposite Gamora. He could only hope Rocket wouldn't be too pissed. If he was lucky, maybe he could get off the hook by becoming blind in only one eye.

***

Peter was sure he could have stopped it if he hadn't cuddled with Rocket for a half hour (let's face it, he was too adorable not to). It was his biggest mistake, and it could have made the difference between life and death for himself, but he had been drawn in by the racoon's soft fur and big brown eyes. What was he to do?!

When they'd finished cuddling, Peter hurried before Rocket to get dressed and return to the meeting room to make sure Gamora had held up her side of the plan. He was prepared for everything. He was ready to defen himself against a clawing cybernetic raccoon. He was prepared to be shot. He was even expecting a set of teeth in his throat. What he was not expecting was...

“GAMORA?!”

“Shut it, Quill. I'm nearly to Whiterun.”

 

[DA-DA-DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't expect that, did you? Okay, you probably did. Just pretend you didn't to boost my self esteem. Drop a kudos if you enjoyed it! Comment if you'd like!


	9. A Rolling of Dice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rocket has partaken in many of Peter's Terran customs. However, none of them have threatened to tear their relationship apart quite like the seemingly simple board game that was discovered in a terrestrial market. Monopoly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was totally gonna write about the two playing D&D. Only one problem. I don't understand that game whatsoever. The good news is that I have first hand experience of how violent monopoly can be! Enjoy!

“Peter, do I really have to?” Rocket asked his boyfriend while sitting at the team's meeting table. “I could be doing something more productive right now. Like staring out a window.”

Peter's lips tugged up in a smirk, and he scratched behind Rocket's ears. “Come on. It's fun, I swear!”

Rocket peered at the cover of the box that sat in between them. “Monopoly. I don't see any guns or bombs...”

“Well I was gonna get the D&D box I saw, but it looked too complicated. Something about building characters and a "dungeon master".”

“What's that? A sex thing?” Rocket wa genuinely confused.

“Mmm-no.” Peter shrugged. “Well, I mean...it could be.” He then flashed a smile, and Rocket wished he had gotten the other game. At least that sounded more interesting than whatever the hell Monopoly was. He shoved the box to Peter. “Figure it out.”

The humie's fingers lifted the lid of the box carefully and tossed it aside. Inside was a collection of what looked like cash, metal figurines, cards, and a board. Sadly (he had still hoped for them at least) there were no weapons.

Peter began setting up the board, pausing every so often to stare at the instructions. He handed Rocket a stack of paper bills. “Here.”

“You're money really is primitive.”

“We have class.”

Rocket rolled his eyes, and Peter slid him a tiny ship. “Here ya' go. It's a battleship. With guns.”

Rocket's fingers plucked up the little boat and studied it. “It'll do.”

Peter smiled. “I always get the thimble.” He stared at the little metal cup in a way that suggested he was thinking about his mother. Rocket knew not to press the issue, so he saved the remarks he ha about Quill being weird. 

At last, Quill pushed him some dice. “Go ahead.”

Rocket sighed with boredom and rattled the dice a few times before casting them across the bored. 6. Moving his piece 6 spaces, he inquired as to what he should do, and Quill handed him a card. Rocket peered down at it and read it aloud. “Get out of jail free...?” He looked up. “Why can't I just break out?” It made sense to him. It wouldn't be too complicated a rule to make that an option.

Peter seemed amused. “Because we're playing by the game's rules.”

“The game sucks.”

“We'll see.” Peter took up the dice and rolled, getting an 8. After he moved the thimble two spaces ahead of Rocket's battleship, he selected some money an placed it back in the box. He grabbed a little house and placed it on the space.

“What're you doing?”

“I'm buying property. If you land on a property square, you can buy it, and everyone who lands on it has to pay you.”

“God, this really does suck.”

“Well it sure beats staring out a window, and we've sill got like six hours until we get back to Xandar, so...”

“There are OTHER WAYS to pass the time.”

Either Quill was oblivious, or he had no desire to have sex, because he just slid the dice back to Rocket. “Your move.”

The next fifteen minutes were spent getting used to the game, but Rocket eventually landed on one of Peter's squares.

“Seventy uni-dollars,” Peter corrected himself. He held out a hand.

“Why do I have to pay you?”

“You landed on my square.”

“Why can't I just kill you?”

“I hope you mean that figuratively. Pay up.” He extended a hand, and Rocket narrowed his eyes. “Go to hell.” But he paid Quill in full. “You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

“Aren't you?”

Rocket glared. “Really?” He rolled his eyes. “We could at least raise the stakes.”

Peter put down his money. “What do you mean?”

“If I win, I top tonight. “If you win, you top.”

Peter thought over his words for a minute. “Hmmmm. Deal.”

Rocket smiled wickedly. “I'm so gonna win this.”

“In your dreams.”

***

“WHAT THE HELL?!!?! I OWN THAT RAILROAD! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!” Rocket was furious. Quill was trying to charge him for landing on his own railroad. 

Peter calmly held up the property card from his personal pile that had the name of the said railroad on it. That little...

“You stole that from me!” Exclaimed Rocket angrily.

“I did NOT!” Quill huffed. “You're just mad because I'm winning!”

“Ha!”

“That was a fake laugh.”

“Don't start,” Rocket growled.

Peter laughed. “I thought you didn't like the game.”

He didn't. He was just...into it. But only because he wanted to top that night! “I don like the game!” He protested. “But I'm not gonna let you win!”

“Uh, news flash.” Peter tapped hisside of the board. “I'm already winning.”

“Screw you, Peter.” He snatched some money from his dwindling pile and chunked it at Peter. He was NOT going to let Quill win a simple game like that. He was going to destroy him. Whatever the cost. 

“I think you're starting to enjoy this.”

“I think you're trying to get killed.” 

Peter just chuckled and took his turn, moving across GO and collecting $200. “I think we know who's gonna be on top tonight, Rocky.”

It wasn't that Rocket wouldn't enjoy Peter topping, but he hated losing bets, and he had already started this one. If he lost, Perer would have a swollen ego for days to come. And...maybe the game wasn't too terrible after all. It wasn't like it sucked too bad. Crap. He was getting sucked into it.

***

“You...you won...” 

“YES! SUCK IT STAR-DORK!” Rocket pumped his fists in the air and flipped Peter off just because he could. “Guess you aren't as good as you thought you were!”

“But...” Peter stared in shock at the board as if it was bound to change. 

“Face it, Peter. I'm the best at Monopoly.” Rocket slipped down from the chair and strode away with a laugh. “Get ready to pay up!”

***

Peter's shocked face followed Rocket out of sight before morphing into a smug smile. The raccoon wished he were as good as him! He'd never lost a game at Monopoly. He hadn't actually planned on losing until Rocket proposed a wager, in fact. A change in the bed would be interesting, and the thought of Rocket topping was appealing to him. They still had a good two-and-a-half hours until Xandar, so he figured it was just as good a time to pay up as any. They should play Monopoly more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this may have been a little boring. The D&D plot fell through, and I only understand Monopoly, but it's not like that game's really interesting. Plus I'm super tired, so I may sound dull. I'll be back with better stuff soon! I'm feeling more fluff?


	10. Drabbles...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just really needed to get my emotions in check after the Parks and Rec finale, so I'm just gonna throw in a little random fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the advice that was left for me and got some sleep. I'm not tired tonight, but I'm so sad because Parks and Rec is over! That was one of my top shows for years, and now it's gone. :'( I need a hug. (wish it could be from the Parks crew, but whatever) Maybe some Peter/Rocket cuddling will help? This is set before he officially moved into Peter's room.

Rocket was having strange dreams. Rather than the usual BLAM BLAM and BOOM CRASH sounds that invaded his head, there was only a soft humming sound and blackness. No images crossed his consciousness. Where did his dreams go? And why did he feel so happy? He felt secure. Warm. Content. Safe, even. The rarity of feeling safe only happened when...oh...right.

He peeled open his dark eyes and allowed them to adjust to the dim atmosphere. One muscular arm cradled him close to an even more muscular body, and he realized his head was tucked snugly underneath a scruffy chin. The humming was in fact the soft snoring of none other than Peter Quill himself.

He must have fallen asleep after their...exploits the previous night. Why else would he still be there? It wasn't that he didn't want to be there, but he wasn't sure if he was totally ready for that. Or maybe he wasn't ready to truly accept that Pete loved him. Either way, he was too comfortable to move, and Peter held him in a tight embrace either way. According to his cybernetics mainframe, it was four-thirty AM Milano time. He might as well enjoy the cuddling, so he snuggled closer to Peter and shut his eyes. Peter's soft hum of a snore lulled him to sleep, and though he didn't dream of guns, he slept well.

***

“Rocket.”

“Mmmmm...”

“Rooockeeet...”

“Go...mmm...sleepy...”

“I...am Groot?”

Rocket's eyes snapped open, and he stared right at Peter. “You did WHAT with your flashlight?”

Peter furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

Rocket snickered quietly. “Ya' big idiot. Don't try speaking Groot until you know how.”

“Why? What did I say?”

Rocket gave a little smile and leaned into Peter's ear to whisper something that caused himself and the former Ravager to blush deeply. 

“Oh.” Peter shook his head. “Well...at least you're up now.”

“Well I was hardly going to miss that flashlight trick,” Rocket laughed.

Peter fought the blood in his cheeks and changed the subject quickly. “So I'm glad you stayed last night.” His finger brushed the softer fur of Rocket's belly.

The smile died on his lips, and he instinctively looked down. Quill obviously felt as I'd this were a permanent statement. “I fell asleep sooner than I thought,” he explained. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Peter gazed excpectantly at him. “But did you sleep well?” Those green eyes made it impossible for Rocket to lie.

“Yeah,” he admitted. He played with a spot on Peter's chest. “I did, actually.”

“I love you, Rocket. You know that.”

Rocket looked up at Peter, and his heartrate quickened by 30 bpm. He almost felt like a needy child, always craving approval and reassurance from someone. Peter's statement both satisfied him and left him feeling inferior. What would he feel like if he openly expressed his same feelings? Would it make him seem even more needy? Would Pete realize he didn't love him as much as he thought he did? Wha-

“-Rocket.” Peter cupped his face, and Rocket pressed against his palm. 

Screw it. “I know, Pete. I...love you, too.”

Peter smiled contently. “Then stay with me.” He opened his arms once more, and Rocket eyes the possible nesting spot in desire. 

He could stay. Maybe forever. Maybe not. But he could stay. He crawled forward and pressed tightly against Peter's large, warm torso. “I'll stay.” Even if only for a little while...he would stay.


	11. Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updates on the way!

So my internet's been out, but I have it fixed now, and updates are on the way!


	12. I Brought You My Bargain...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU in which Peter and Ronan have a little...disagreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYOOOOOO!!!! I'm back! And this time, I'm responding to a Tetris challenge from blusnoson. I decided to make an alternate universe where they all live normal Terran lives, even though they come in furry, green, and blue. Peter owns a music store, and Ronan is a fan of My Chemical Romance (because they rock! and it seems like something he would like). Hope you enjoy the drabblings of my twisted mind.

Peter lounged idly at the checkout counter of his music shop, his orange foam headphones dangling from his neck playing David Bowie at a soft volume.  It had been a slow day at "Rock It!" (This was Peter's clever idea of a pun, though Rocket didn't seem that amused.  It was hard to tell sometimes...), and his furry companion was out making local deliveries, so that left nothing for him to do other than to lay back, relax, and fiddle with new apps on his tablet.  
  The ringing of the shop's doorbells caused him to glance upward, and he sighed, rolling his eyes.  Ronan again.  That was the third time that week he'd entered the shop in hopes of finding something that was not yet revealed to Peter.  For a moment, their eyes met, but Peter was only greeted with a curt nod before the other man moved on into the aisles of vinyl records.  Peter watched in bemusement before returning to a new level of Tap Tap Revenge.   
  “Aha!”  
  Peter looked up curiously at the outburst, but he only saw the top of Ronan's head over the aisles.  Apparently he'd found what he'd been looking for.  Thank God he wouldn't be coming back.  He sat up and logged onto his computer to prepare the checkout.  
  Ronan returned to the counter clutching a vinyl copy of "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love" by My Chemical Romance.  Figured.  “Quill,” he cast his dark gaze upon Peter, “how much is this?” He held out the album, and Peter retrieved it, scanning the tag on his reader.  
  He looked back up.  “$99.99, plus taxes.”  
  “That's outrageous!!!” Ronan cried.  “Are you trying to go bankrupt?!”  
  Peter rolled his eyes.  “Look, dude.  Do you have any idea how rare this album is?  A hundred bucks is amazing compared to the rip offs online.”  
  Ronan glared.  “One hundred dollars is an outrage.  I could just as easily download this music online for free, but I chose to come to your pathetic little store.  There is absolutely no way I am paying that much.” He crossed his arms like a sulky teenager.  
  Peter weighed his options.  He could either refuse to negotiate and potentially lose the money, or he could knock off the price.  He bit his tongue.  Ronan wasn't the sort of person he wished to let beat him down in bargaining tactics.  An idea began to form in his mind.  
  “Okay, Ronan.  How about a wager?”  
  The temperamental customer narrowed his eyes.  “Name it.”  
  Peter looked at the album and smiled.  “We're going to have a little contest.  If you win, you can have the album for $20.  If I win, you pay full price.  Sound fair?” He gave his best winning smile, but there was no softening in Ronan's unwavering gaze.  
  Finally, the other man raised his chin.  “Very well.  What sort of contest?” He no doubt was thinking violent thoughts.  
  Peter looked down at his tablet and smiled wickedly.  “...Tetris.”  
  Ronan was silent for a moment.  “...You've got to be kidding me.”  
  Peter raised his hands.  “It's this or nothing.  In fact, I could probably get more money off of this baby online...” He turned the album over in his hands.  
  “Fine!” Ronan snapped, eyes locked on the album.  “Just hurry up.”  
  Peter chuckled and pulled up the Tetris app.  Soft, tinkling music began to play, and he handed the tablet to Ronan.  “You're up first.”  
  The other man took the device and began to play, focusing intently on the screen.  His eyes danced from shape to shape, and he seemed to be holding his breath.  Peter began to grow worried.  Maybe he'd bitten off more than he could chew...  
  Ronan's brow began to formulate a sweat, and he grew tenser and tenser until there was a buzz, and he forked over the tablet.  “4,560,” he stated.  
  Peter nodded and scribbled down the number in sloppy handwriting.  He could beat that score.  He could do it.  Day after day, he'd wasted his time on the game in the shop.  Surely it wouldn't be too hard to defeat some egotistical blowhard?  He restarted the game and began to play.  
  He started out just fine, filling in the holes evenly without raising the shapes too high.  Until...he rotated one too far.  Now that cut off three openings!  His fingers grew slick with sweat, and his gaze shifted to the score.  Only 2,300?!  He was almost done at the end of the game though!!!  He began to panic and desperately searched for reasonable spots to place the shapes, but the inevitable grew closer and closer, until the buzzer sounded, and he was forced to admit defeat.  
  Ronan peeped worriedly over the counter, but Peter just cast the device down.  “You win,” he muttered, holding out a hand.  “Twenty bucks.”  
  “Haha!  Victory!” Ronan slapped a twenty into Peter's hand, and he grumbled as he rang up a receipt and shoved the album into a bag.  “Do me a favor and find a different shop,” he jibed.  
  Ronan was...smiling?!  That sure was a sight.  He laughed wickedly.  “Pleasure doing business with you, Quill.” He strolled out of the shop with a swagger, even stopping to hold the door for Rocket as he entered in his delivery outfit.  
  The cybernetic raccoon stopped and turned around as Ronan exited, slack-jawed.  He turned to Peter.  “What in the hell was that?!?!” He pointed behind him.  
  Peter sat arms folded and pouting in his chair.  “Stupid Ronan beat me at Tetris, and I lost eighty bucks.”  
  Rocket grinned.  “Aww, poor baby.  Good new is...” He scampered over and hopped into Peter's warm lap.  “It's nearly closing time, and I know how to cheer you up when we get home...” His tail brushed Peter's chin, and he looked up, slightly less sulky.  
  “You promise?”  
  “I promise.”  
  Peter thought for a moment before unfolding his arms and trailing his fingers lightly through Rocket's fur.  “Okay.”   
  “But only if you can beat me at Tetris.”  
  “Aw, come on!”

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? Should I make more like this? Drop a Kudos if you enjoyed!


	13. Not Really a "Chapter"...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a scene I thought would be funny in my Pocket universe...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a Star-Lord pillow today! Now I need a Rocket one for it to be complete.

Peter collapsed beside Rocket in a heap of sweat and exhaustion, panting heavily while trying to recover. Rocket's chest rose and fell quickly, and his tongue poked out just a little while he took in as much air as he could. He'd somehow managed to forget how to breath...

“Wow...” Peter said softly. “That was...”

“You say that every time Star-Dork.”

“And I mean it every time, Rocky.” He flashed that perfect smile that complimented that perfect face that topped that perfect body, and Rocket's blush was barely masked by all of his fur. Damn those dimples. He gave up trying to resist the magnetic attraction between himself and Peter and just curled up into the crook of his arm.

Peter cuddled Rocket closer and pressed his lips against his furry cheek. “This is always my favorite part of the day,” he mumbled.

“I personally liked what we were doin' five minutes ago, but whatever.” Rocket stroked Peter's chest absentmindedly, but the peaceful mood was interrupted when they were startled by a loud pounding on the door.

Peter slipped out of bed and yanked on his underwear before cracking it open with a small hiss. Rocket peered around his body and narrowed his eyes when he found Drax standing battle-ready, daggers drawn in a menacing position.

Peter's eyes widened. “Er...”

“Quill! My communications system began broadcasting a series of grunting and yelling noises coming from this location. I feared we were under attack. Is there an intruder?” His pale eyes searched the small cabin.

Rocket realized with growing horror what had happened and buried his face in a pillow. “Oh shit...” He groaned. Of all the people to hear them having sex, it had to be Drax the friggin' Destroyer.

Peter had a deep blush beginning to spread around his lower neck area, and he tried to play it off cool. “Don't worry, man,” he told Drax. “It's just the intercom system messing up. It was probably picking up some random frequency.”

Drax's shoulders lowered almost dejectedly. “So...there is no intruder...?” As if that were likely in deep space...

“Sorry buddy,” Peter consoled him. “Not this time.”

Drax nodded sadly and turned away to trudge back to his room, and Peter shut the door. He turned and began to laugh hysterically. 

Rocket glared at the captain. “This isn't funny, you fucking moron! You must've hit the PA system with your giant foot or something!” He seethed in embarrassment.

Peter's laughs subsided, and he managed a straight face while he slid into bed. “Actually, it could be pretty hot. People hearing us get it on...” He winked.

“As much as I would love to play into your exhibitionalism fantasies,” Rocket gritted his teeth, “you are not having sex with me until you cover up that intercom system.”

“What?! Come on! I was up for round 2!”

“I'm sure Gamora would love to hear that one. Should I press the button, or would you like to do the honors again?”

Peter rolled onto his back and pouted. “Fine. I'll fix it tomorrow.”

“Good.”

It was silent for a moment, but Peter turned to his side and gazed at Rocket with burning curiosity. “Are you sure you don't wanna go for round 2?”


	14. The Scent of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter should've read the instructions on the pheromone enhancers, as well as listened to Lydia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the shortness and the crappy title! I've been reading a lot of GOTG and Legendary Star-Lord comics recently, and so I give you the AI Lydia and The Bad Boy!

Rocket and Peter really never got the opportunity to go off by themselves on missions.  It was always as a full team: the tree, assassin, warrior, psychotic raccoon, and cocky fighter.  When the opportunity arose to split up and go pick up details from Nova Prime, Peter suggested he and Rocket go.  Everyone knew his reasons, but he claimed it was "only strategic".  For God's sake, it was just classified mission orders.

  This is how Rocket and Peter came to be cooped up on a Peter's personal ship he dubbed "The Bad Boy".  It came equipped with a snarky AI called Lydia who Rocket got along with tremendously.  Especially when she made fun of Pete's dance moves.  

  “Rocket,” Peter said on their first day together, “we're totally doing this more often.  It's so quiet.” He closed his eyes in relaxation, savoring the pancake he was devouring.  Rocket preferred to stay away from the sticky crap that always got stuck in his fur.

  “I wouldn't...totally...mind it,” he replied, chewing on some sort of protein bar Quill had stacked in his cabinets from who knows how long ago.  “We don't have to be...as quiet.”  
    
  Peter grinned wickedly, pushing his empty plate away.  “Exactly.” 

  Lydia appeared near the wall.  “Goooooood morning crew!” She chirped.  “Just a heads up, we'll be approaching an astroid field in one hour and three minutes, so make sure to set the autopilot on defense mode!” She glanced at Peter's syrup-y plate and grimaced.  “Gross, pancakes?”

  Peter rolled his eyes.  “You're not even alive.  How would you know what they taste like?”

  “Well you don't have to be rude!” She huffed.  “And I have my ways.”

  Peter chose not to encroach on the subject, so instead he changed it.  “So how long until we reach Xandar?”  
   
  If Lydia could shrug, she would've.  “How am I supposed to know?” She asked sarcastically. “I'm not even alive!” Her eyes shot daggers at Peter, and he sighed with his face in his hands.  “I'm sorry, Lydia,” he groaned.  “I was being insensitive and stupid.” It sounded like an apology he had rehearsed.

  The artificial intelligence raised her chin a touch higher.  “You are forgiven.  But I'm still taking the next five hours off.  Three hours 'till Xandar.” And with that, she phased out.

  Rocket snorted.  “Way to charm the ladies, Quill.”

  “Well it's not the ladies I'm trying to charm,” Peter retorted smoothly.  “It's you.  In fact...” He stood and slowly approached Rocket.  “Since Lydia's gone, and we've got time to kill...” He entered the other's personal space, and all of a sudden, Rocket tensed up, his nose quivering.

  “Q-Quill...what's...what's that smell?” His tail flicked, and he seemed a bit dazed.  
   
  Peter gave a confident smile.  “Picked up some pheremone enhancers at the market last week and decided to wait to try them...them...Rocket.  ROCKET!!”

  Rocket froze and shook his head.  He was leaning dangerously close to Peter's chest, near to falling off of the table.  He realized what was happening and backed away warily.  “How much of that flarking stuff did you use, Quill?”  
    
  Peter scratched his neck.  “Mmmm...about a quarter of the bottle.  I couldn't smell anything when I used the minimum.” 

  Rocket groaned.  “You idiot!  Using too much makes people wanna rip off your clothes and bang ya' like flark!” As he spoke, he did so through his mouth.

  Peter's lips grew thin.  “Oh.  Well...I'll just shower!”

  Rocket sighed.  “Ya' d'ast idiot. Pheromone enhancers take twenty-four hours to wear off.”  
    
  Peter groaned.  “Crap.  The meeting with Nova Prime...” He sure as hell didn't want that woman trying to get in his pants.  What was he supposed to do for twenty-four hours?!  Well...he supposed Rocket could handle Nova Prime.  As for freetime...

  “Hey, Rocket.  Since there's nothing we can do about it, we could at least enjoy the positives...?” He grinned, but it was more of a grimace.

  “Oh, what the hell...” and Rocket launched himself at Peter.

 

***

 

  “God, Peter, I'm gonna flarking kill ya' when ya' stop turning me on.” Rocket growled and roughly kissed Peter.  It was the middle of their second round, and Rocket felt like he'd been hit with an aphrodisiac cannon.  Peter had never seemed so desireable.  And the scent that filled his nose...just radiated Peter.  It really wasn't so bad, he guessed.  At least they were having fun.  

  Peter struggled to get air.  “Christ, Rocket!  Slow down!”

  “Not on your life.”

  “Mmm...but-!”

  “-Shut up, Quill.  Let me-”

  WHAAMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!  There was a huge crash that sent Rocket falling off of Peter, and Peter leapt up.  “What the fuck just happened?!”

  Lydia's head appeared, and she shrieked, “HOLY SHIT YOU'RE NAKED!” She squeezed her eyes shut.  “PUT ON SOME CLOTHES!!”

  Peter blushed and scrambled to throw on pants.  Luckily, the crash had bumped some sense into Rocket, so he was capable of restraining himself.  Peter finally looked at Lydia.  “I'm good.  What the hell was that crash?!”

  Lydia opened one eye, followed by the other.  “Did you turn on the defense systems?!  For the asteroids?!”

  Peter's face fell.  “Crap.”

  And then the world turned upside down.

 

TO BE CONTINUED>>>>>>>>


	15. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rocket, Peter, and Lydia are trapped on a crash ship that's heading straight for a star! What could possibly save them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to bring in more from the comics, so here is my feeble attempt!

  “Peter.  Hey, Peter!  Wake up!” Tiny paws patted the half-Terran's face on both sides, but he just let out a little whimper and squeezed his eyes shut.    
    
  “That's it.”

  A sharp WHACK! caused Peter to sit up suddenly, reaching for his element gun instinctively, but when his vision cleared he saw that it was Rocket sitting beside him.  A sharp throb made him wince, and he reached his hand to the back of his head, fingers probing a bump gently.  “Owww...” he whined.

  “It's about time,” Rocket remarked.  His voice was nonchalant, but the twitch of his whiskers betrayed his concern.  He seemed to be alright with only ruffled fur to show evidence of the collision, though the ruffled fur could also have had something to do with their bedroom exploits.

  “What...happened?” Peter looked around at the mess of a room.  

  “We hit an asteroid!” Lydia appeared, seeming angry for some reason.  It wasn't as if she'd been flung around like Ronan's henchmen on Groot's arm.  

  “Or, more accurately, the asteroid hit us...” grumbled Rocket.

  “And our left thruster is down,” Lydia reported, “so the only thing we're good for is flying around in a circle.” She narrowed her eyes at Peter.  “Would someone care to explain WHY the defense systems were down?”

  Peter held up his hands.  “Woah, woah, woah!  Hold on now!” He smiled nervously.  “I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems.”

  “Peter.” Rocket jabbed at him with a finger.  “We're not getting any communication signals.” In his hand he held his "cosmic telephone", or at least that's what Stark thought of it.

  “Please tell me there's nothing else.” Peter scanned their faces for any signs of more danger, but they seemed pretty much the same.

  “No,” Lydia sighed, “but unless you can get in touch with the Milano then we're kind of screwed.” She blew a holographic strand of hair from her face.

  Peter brought his chin to his knees as he sat to think.  Their situation wasn't as bad as it could have been.  Maybe the team would search for their GPS (Galactic Positioning System) coordinates?  He looked at Rocket.  “Where are we?”

  Lydia piped up when Rocket shrugged.  “We're past the asteroid field, and if we continue going the way we are...” Suddenly her eye grew wide.  “Shit...”

  “What?!” Cried Peter and Rocket at the same time.

  Lydia took a deep breath.  “We're heading right for the nearest star.  49.756 minutes until impact.”

  “WHAT?!?!” Exclaimed Peter and Rocket once again in unison. They looked at one another, and Peter nervously ran a hand through his hair.  “We...we have to figure something out.” Their passports wouldn't work because they couldn't get in touch with Knowhere.  The team couldn't contact them.  Their thruster wasn't working.  How...?

  Rocket seemed at a loss for words.  He usually wasn't in situations he couldn't shoot or bomb himself out of.  This time...there was no solution.

  They decided on trying to boost the strength of the comm systems to get a signal, but nothing they did seemed to work.  They had around twenty minutes to figure something out...or else...

  “(Peter!)”

  Peter jumped as a familiar voice reverberated through his head.  It sounded like...

  “(Mantis?)”

  There was a moment of silence, and Peter began to wonder if he had imagined the voice in the first place, but just as he began to doubt himself, he was graced with a reply.

  “(Hey, Peter!  I had a hunch you needed some help today, and what do you know?  Apparently you're heading to a star?)”

  Peter sighed in relief.  “(Thank God you...thought?  Called?  Whatever...listen, can you activate our passports in two minutes so we don't become alien barbecue?)”

  “(Of course!  The Guardians can't be complete without their leader, can they?)”

  “(You're a life saver!)”

  He heard a tinkling laugh and jumped up to grab his and Rocket's bag.  Sure enough, both of their passports lay inside.  He murmured words of relief and rushed to Rocket.  He found him tampering with wires at the console frantically.  

  “Come on ya d'ast...”

  “Rocket!” Peter exclaimed.  He raced down and thrust out the passport.  “Mantis contacted me.  She's gonna bring us to Knowhere.  Put it on!”

  Rocket's mouth fell open, and he gasped slightly, but he regained his usual tough exterior and snatched the passport to slip it on.  “How?” He asked simply.  Peter just shrugged and kissed him.  “Dunno.  But we're gonna be find.  Just let me...” He reached to a particular part of the console and slipped out a piece of equipment.  It was the AI core of the ship, that way Lydia could be installed into the Milano if they had to.

  “Hey, Pete?” Rocket asked quietly.  

  He looked down.  “Yeah?”

  Rocket played with wires absentmindedly.  “I really thought we weren't gonna make it out this time...but...” he sighed, “And I know it's out of character...” he looked up.  “It wasn't so bad with you here.”

  Peter grinned, elated with the emotion he was getting from Rocket, and he sat down to allow the smaller Guardian to crawl onto his lap.  “You're not so bad yourself.” He kept smiling, and Rocket kissed him warmly, knotting his hands in Peter's shirt.  Suddenly he pulled away. “Gah!  D'ast pheremones makin' me all gross!”

  A white light engulfed them, and a buzz resonated in their ears, covering up Peter's laugh.  Mantis had come through.  He supposed that's what friends were for anyhow.

 

[Knowhere HQ]

   
  “Thanks again for saving us,” Peter smiled at Mantis, and she shrugged.  

  “It's no big deal.  But just add it on to my debt.”

  “Debt?” Peter's eyebrow rose.”

  “Yeah.  Debt of how many times you've saved my ass in battle.”

  Peter laughed.  “Sure thing.”

  Five meters away, Rocket and Cosmo stood having a staredown full of deep-rooted prejudice.

  “Mutt,” Rocket remarked.

  “(Rodent)” Cosmo bared his teeth.

  “Rocket, come on!” Peter called to Rocket as he was leaving.  “The team's waiting on us!”

  Rocket took one last opportunity to shoot a rude gesture to Cosmo before returning to Peter's side.  “I hate that dog,” he grumbled.  “Makes my fur stand on end.”

  Peter chuckled.  “I know.” They continued walking towards the docked Milano, Peter carrying the last remaining survivor of The Bad Boy in his pocket.  “I know.”

 

  THE (CHEESY AND RUSHED) END!!


	16. Note

So I've been thinking about also doing a Parks and Rec fanfiction about Andy and April, but I'm not sure. Yay or nay?


	17. (Another) Note

Please don't think I've abandoned this! I swear, I'm brainstorming. I really wanna do something about where one of them dies, and the other goes to Oblivion to bring then back, but I don't understand much about it from the comics I've read. Help? Also I've nearly convinced myself to so a Parks and Rec fanfic, so look out for those.


End file.
